Are We There Yet?
by NarutoRox
Summary: For ZombiesloveMangoes. Charlie is sure there are worse things than being trapped in a car with a grumpy hunter and two depowered supernatural beings. She just can't think of any right now.


**AN:** For ZombiesloveMangoes, the encourager of my rampant insanity and future ruler of the world. ;) Not sure if this is quite what you had in mind when you said you wanted 'Three Gays and the King of Hell', but...

I suppose this is technically an AU, but it takes place sometime around season 10, either before 10x21, 'Dark Dynasty' (*sob* Charlie!), or as though it never happened.

* * *

 **~Are We There Yet?~**

* * *

When Charlie pulled up, Dean was very tempted to just jump in the passenger seat and tell her to drive - far and fast. The only thing that kept him from doing so was the fact that Cas and Crowley had beaten him to it, and were now both pulling on the passenger door handle and arguing over who got to sit shotgun.

Charlie poked her head out the window and raised her eyebrows at him.

"Yeah, it's been that kind of day." Dean sighed, scrubbing a hand through his hair. "Sam fill you in?"

"Yep," Charlie said, grinning with an enthusiasm that left Dean both irritated and envious. "Trickster god that thought it would be funny to put the whammy on the King of Hell and an

angel and dump you all into the desert together? Wouldn't miss it for the world."

At the incredulous look Dean gave her, she rolled her eyes. "Oh come on, you have to admit - it's a little bit funny."

"It really, really isn't." Dean said sourly, rubbing at his temples. "Crowley's bitchy enough when he's got his demon mojo, but when he's mortal, and then with Cas..." Dean shuddered. The least that asshat trickster could have done was zap Sam instead of him. Two hours alone in the desert listening to Cas and Crowley argue with each other had left Dean wishing the trickster had just killed them all. In his experience, it was much less painful.

"So that's Crowley." Charlie mused. "I was expecting more..." Her eyes wandered back over to Cas and Crowley, who were now digging their elbows into each other's stomachs in an attempt to get the door open.

"More." she finished lamely.

Dean grimaced. "He gets that a lot. Hey, knock it off!" he barked at the two not-quite-mortals. "Cas is riding up front. Crowley, you get in the back with me so I can keep an eye on you."

Cas shot Crowley a smug look, who scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Fine. I'm feeling tired and Squirrel's shoulder will make an wonderful pillow to nap on, right bestie?" he said, batting his eyes at Dean.

Dean studiously ignored Charlie as she mouthed 'bestie' and fixed Crowley with a glare.

"Just get in the damn car, before we leave you here. _Both_ of you," he added as Cas opened his mouth to snipe something at Crowley. "Sam said the spell should only last about twenty-four hours, and I am not above leaving you here to rough it out until you get your mojo back!"

Cas looked hurt, and Crowley offended.

"Just watch me," Dean said to their unspoken 'You wouldn't dare'.

They scowled at each other but didn't comment - just opened their doors and sat down.

"I feel like I should warn you that I get motion-sickness." Crowley said once everyone had settled in.

"Hey, no demon puke in the car!" Charlie protested, twisting around to glare at Crowley.

Dean leaned back against the headrest and closed his eyes, blocking everyone out. "Wake me up when we get to Kansas."

* * *

When Dean woke up an indeterminate amount of time later, they still weren't in Kansas. In fact, from the look of the landscape, they weren't that much farther from where they had started.

He blinked and looked around blearily, trying to figure out what had woken him up, and felt something cold and wet touch his leg. He forced himself not to startle and lifted his leg, scowling down at the water bottle that rolled across the floor. He glanced over at the seat next to him, where Crowley was bending over as far as his arm could reach.

"Sorry," Crowley said with a shrug, and then made grabby hands at the bottle. "Do you mind?"

Dean rolled his eyes and tossed him the bottle without looking, then leaned over the seat to squint at the clock on Charlie's dash. "How long have I been out?"

"Ten minutes," Charlie said, sounding strained. "And if you ask me if we're there yet, so help me, I will drive us all into the first telephone pole I see."

Dean raised his eyebrows and side-eyed Cas, then shifted his focus to Crowley.

"What?" Crowley protested. "Castiel asked, too!"

"It was a valid question," Cas grumbled. "And I asked first!"

Dean rubbed his forehead. "Do you have anything stronger than water?" he asked Charlie a little desperately.

"There's soda in the bag with the water bottles." Charlie replied, her grip on the steering wheel tightening a little.

"Does the soda have Jim Beam in it?"

Charlie shot him a look in the rearview mirror.

"Or Wild Turkey. I'm not feeling too picky right now."

Charlie ignored him. Dean was debating on whether or not to give her a hard time about it when Cas reached back and held the aforementioned bag out to Dean.

"There's Dr. Pepper." Cas offered helpfully. When Dean made no move to take anything he turned back around, deflating a little. "I like Dr. Pepper." he added to no one in particular, making Dean feel a little guilty.

Crowley muttered something under his breath - likely what Cas could do with his precious Dr. Pepper - then poked Dean in the side and offered him a flask.

Dean knew there was a reason he hadn't killed him yet.

"Uh-uh, don't even think about it. You're the one that has to relieve me in a few hours." Charlie said when she caught sight of the exchange in the mirror.

"I'm not driving now," Dean pointed out, popping the flask open and taking a swig.

"No, but I can't drink since I'm driving, and if I can't drink neither can you." Charlie replied pleasantly, her tone giving Dean the creeps.

Crowley quickly yanked the flask out of Dean's hand, which made him wonder what exactly Charlie had said to him while Dean had been sleeping.

"Can I drive?" Cas asked, perking up some.

"No!" everyone else exclaimed, making Cas flinch.

"It was just a suggested," he grumbled, looking out the window dejectedly.

Crowley started to say something, but Charlie cut him off.

"Don't even ask," she warned.

Crowley sniffed, affronted. "I wasn't going to! I just wanted to know if there was anything to eat. I'm feeling a bit peckish."

Charlie sighed, but some of the murder that had been in her eyes faded. "Bag of snacks in the glove compartment, and more in the trunk when we stop."

Cas stopped doing his impression of a sad, mopey puppy and practically tore the glove compartment open. Dean grimaced, realizing that none of them had eaten anything for hours and wondering if that was part of Cas and Crowley's problem. They weren't exactly used to low blood-sugar.

Crowley reached around the seat to yank the bag out of Cas's hands, but Dean, sensing a fight, beat him to it by scooting over until he was leaning over Cas's shoulder.

"Anything good?" Dean asked, ignoring the elbow Crowley dug into his side and retaliating by kicking him in the shin. Cas pulled a few things out and handed the bag back to Dean, who had it ripped out of his hands before he could so much as sit back.

Rather than stab the hungry, depowered King of Hell through the eye like he wanted to, Dean scooted back to his seat and patiently waited until Crowley was done pawing through the bag's contents. He was growing as a person.

His patience was rewarded when Crowley tossed some licorice and a miniature fruit pie into his lap, as well as the flask now that Charlie wasn't paying any attention.

Dean was resolutely not touched that Crowley remembered his favorites. That would be weird.

"Cas, you want some help with that?" Charlie asked, drawing Dean's attention to the the front seat, where Cas was trying to rip open a stick of beef jerky with his teeth.

"No, I phink I'fe got it -" Cas started, but as he was saying it the plastic finally tore. His left arm jerked to the side with the sudden give and smacked Charlie in the face, causing her to swerve sideways.

Charlie's shriek of pain and alarm was joined by everyone else's screaming as the car lurched off the road and fishtailed. Dean regretted his and Crowley's lack of seatbelts when he was thrown into his door, his head smacking painfully into the glass when Crowley slammed into him.

There was a pop as one of the tires blew, dust flying up as they skidded along, the rest of the tires squealing when Charlie practically stood on the brakes. (Or at least, Dean thought it was the tires squealing - the sound might have been Crowley. It was hard for Dean to tell with the ringing in his ears.)

Finally - after what Dean knew was only seconds, though it seemed like hours - the car came to a slow, painful stop.

Dean blinked as the dust settled outside.

"Is everyone okay?" he gasped, pushing Crowley - who Dean swore was praying under his breath - off of his lap and looking around to survey the damage.

The windshield was splattered from either Cas or Charlie's open drink, and there was something that looked like applesauce speckling the right side of Charlie's hair. Cas had one hand on the dashboard and the other clinging to his door handle, eyes wide, while Charlie was white-knuckling the steering wheel and trying to control her breathing, which was coming out in panicked little gasps. Both seemed unhurt, with the exception of the bruise that was forming over Charlie's right eye.

No one spoke for a few minutes while they got their bearings and took stock of the situation.

"Sorry." Cas said weakly, breaking the silence.

Crowley threw Dean's smashed pie at him.

* * *

By the time they got the tire changed and the car back on the road, Charlie's slight bruise had blossomed into a full-on shiner. Despite this - and Crowley's semi-sincere offer of the now mostly-empty flask - she still insisted on driving.

"You sure?" Dean asked warily, popping the tools into the trunk. He was dirt tired and his nerves were on a hair-trigger, but he'd driven with less sleep under worse conditions.

"Yeah, it's fine, I mean," Charlie shrugged. "You just came off a hunt without sleep and - no offence - look like you feel worse than I do. Besides, driving keeps my mind off murdering everyone." she said.

Dean couldn't tell if she was joking or not.

* * *

Dean dozed off within minutes of hitting the road again, and didn't wake up until he felt the car slowing down. He yawned and rubbed his eyes, wincing when his temple twinged from his earlier encounter with the door.

"Why are we stopping?" he sighed as Charlie pulled over.

"Too much Dr. Pepper," Cas gasped, throwing his door open and darting out of the car.

Dean blinked, his sleep-addled brain a bit slow on the uptake.

"Mortal bladders are the bane of existence." Crowley agreed gravely before following suit and nearly running after Cas.

Dean yawned and peaked over Charlie's shoulder to find her doing something with her phone. He winced when he got a good look at her eye, and hoped she'd at least popped a few aspirin or something while he'd been out.

She sensed him looking and raised the eyebrow of her good eye at him. "Don't you have to go, Jim Beam?" she asked.

He scowled, then grimaced. "Eh, might as well." he said, and started to get out before paranoia made him stop.

"If I leave this car, are you going to drive off while we're all taking a leak?" he asked her suspiciously.

"Of course not," Charlie answered without looking up from her phone, setting off a few alarm bells in Dean's head.

"Charlie…" he said warningly.

Charlie looked up at him, her face flushed a little. "It's only twenty miles until the next town," she protested. "You could always hitchhike, employ that famous charm. Between the three of you, someone would pick you up!"

Dean opened his mouth to retort, torn between indignation and sympathy, but before he could say anything Cas and Crowley both returned.

"I'm not nearly bloody drunk enough for that much piss," Crowley grumbled as he got in, then turned and squinted up at Dean. "What? Are you going to go empty the tank or not?"

Dean ignored him and shot Charlie a betrayed look. She grimaced and avoided his gaze by pretending to go through her messenger bag and offering Cas a Tic-Tac.

* * *

At the next town they made a pit-stop for gas and more supplies. Dean didn't relish the idea of taking either Cas or Crowley inside to look at snacks, so he offered to do the gassing up while the others went inside.

He was just finishing up and wondering if he should go inside anyway when he heard slurping, and turned around to find Crowley leaning against the car with some sort of freezie drink in his hand.

"They were out of pie," he said when he noticed Dean noticing him, wincing around a brain freeze. "Feathers and One-eyed Red were arguing about gummy worms when I left. Have you heard from Moose?"

"He took care of the trickster on his own, and said he'd meet us at the bunker." Dean said. "If we drive all night we should be there by morning."

There was a cheerful ring that signaled the door to the gas station opening. Dean looked over and saw Cas and Charlie approaching with bags in hand, apparently continuing their argument from inside.

"But the bears look much happier. It's disconcerting. Why would they be happy they're about to be eaten?" Cas asked dubiously, staring down at a bag of gummy bears.

"It's fine, they taste the same, I promise." Charlie told him. "Just, you know, don't eat them all at once and make yourself sick, okay?"

She turned to Dean.

"So, we've got the food and stuff...you all set to go?" she asked.

She seemed in better spirits than she'd been earlier, and even let Dean drive without a fuss, settling into the back seat with Cas while Crowley rode shotgun.

"These _are_ better," Cas said when they pulled out, munching happily on his gummies.

* * *

They made it another hour before they had to stop again.

"I'm sorry I threw up in your car, Charlie." Cas offered weakly, before dry-heaving onto the pavement.

"It's okay, Cas. It's a rental." Charlie said, running a hand soothingly up and down his back.

"He can't possibly still be vomiting. The entire contents of his stomach is in the backseat," Crowley complained loudly, standing several feet away from both the car and the puking angel, trying to distance himself from the smell. Dean - who was staring into the backseat with a growing sense of horror and nausea himself - was inclined to agree. He and Sam had seen some pretty gruesome things in their lives, but this…

Well, it was bad.

"I'm not getting back in that car." Crowley said. He wasn't looking so good, either, and the very last thing Dean wanted was _more_ throwing up.

"We'll - I don't know, I guess-"

"Those were bad gummy bears," Cas gasped now that he was finally finished, walking back over with Charlie and clutching his stomach. "Bad, bad bears. No wonder they looked so happy to be eaten - it was a mission of vengeance!"

Nobody seemed to know what to do with that, so they all gaped at him in varying degrees of aggravation and pity.

"He, uh, probably needs some fluids or something." Charlie said, giving his shoulder a light pat, and then making a face at the car. "So, uh…what now?"

They all stared at the car, and the backseat splattered with sick. Crowley gagged, making Dean's decision for him.

"Call Sam, and tell him to start driving." he hissed at Charlie, turning away before he started gagging, too.

* * *

It was five hours before Sam finally pulled up.

In the meantime, Cas threw up again, this time managing to hit Charlie's shoes. Dean felt sorry for him, he really did, but Mother Teresa wouldn't have wanted to step within three feet of the guy after witnessing his last bout of projectile vomit, so he left the comforting to Charlie.

Crowley's coat had been one of the casualties of Cas's first upchuck, and once the sun went down and the temperature dropped, he started complaining - loudly and bitterly - about the cold. When that got him nowhere he began wheedling Dean for his jacket, and didn't stop until Dean pulled his gun on him.

Some cars passed, but only one stopped. That one had looked promising - right up until the driver had gotten a good whiff of Cas and a peak at their backseat. Then he'd driven off as though Crowley's hounds had been chasing him.

By hour three Crowley had (somewhat desperately) suggested walking until they found a crossroad to summon one of his minions. Dean had actually liked that plan, but as they didn't have all the stuff for the summoning anyway, they stayed put.

Dean was just starting to consider holding his breath and driving off in the car with all the windows open anyway when Sam finally, blessedly pulled up in the Impala.

"Jeez, what happened to you guys?" he asked when he stepped out, taking in their expressions and general dislevelment. "Where you attacked?"

"No," said Dean at the same time as Charlie, Cas, and Crowley all said "Yes."

Sam glanced over at them, then raised his eyebrows at Dean.

"It's complicated." Dean sighed, moving around to the Impala's passenger side, to Sam's obvious surprise. "Just...let's get out of here."

Sam shrugged and didn't ask questions, just got back behind the wheel while the others all loaded in.

Dean heard a clink from the floor when he sat down, and nearly cried when he saw a six pack of his favorite beer by his feet.

Sam grinned at him. "You sounded like you needed it on the phone," he told Dean, then turned to address everyone in the back. "There's a bag of snacks on the floor if you guys are hungry. They didn't have a great selection, but everyone likes beef jerky and gummies, right?"

There was an immediate and violent uproar - which included what might have been some sobbing from Cas, threats from Crowley, and Charlie repeatedly hitting a very confused Sam with a jumbo beef jerky stick.

Dean ignored it all in favor of finding a bottle opener.


End file.
